I stood on the front porch as a faint breeze caught my short, dirty blonde hair and ruffled it about my head. The evening felt uneasy to me as I stared out over the neighborhood filled with many rows of residential homes. I passed the feeling off as being due to a treacherous day at work.
Dealing with hormonal teenagers was always stressful, and my job as a high school principal was proving to be more than difficult. But I adored watching young minds operate in an educational setting.
A neighbor waved at me as she rolled a large plastic trash container into the garage. I smiled and asked how her day had been.
“It was great; and yours, Cherise?” The apron wearing woman called back.
I bit my lip before answering. “It was trying, very trying, like it always is, Mona.” I bid her goodnight as I escaped into my small house, then closed the front door and locked it tight for the evening. When a cry in the distance hit my ears, I halted my ascent of the interior wooden staircase and doubled back to recheck each door and window.
With everything in order, I set my glass of water on the counter and proceeded to slowly move up the staircase. A dark, creepy feeling curled up my back as I stopped and listened with great intent. Inside, my stomach churned over what sounded chaotic and horrid in the distance. It was not like me to mull over such things, but an inner hesitation suddenly scampered to the forefront of my mind.